The dinner had been a success, or so my ministers told me early the next morning. The local barons and businessmen had been stirred by my speech, which was exactly what I needed. They pledge support and money at a critical junction.

Except all I could think about was Bryce and the look on her face as I left the room. She thought I wasn’t paying attention to her, but she had my entire mind. All I could do was think about her, but she was clearly put off when I didn’t bother to return her glances or go over and say hello to her family.

I couldn’t, at least not in front of everyone. I had to invite her, since she’d be expected, but if I ignored others in favor of speaking with Bryce, then I risked alienating the locals when I so badly needed their support. I knew I’d explain everything to her, and soon.

But not just yet. This morning was an important one. I stood outside the estate as the security team finished their preparations to leave the estate.

“How’s it going?” I asked Hardcourt.

“Well, Your Highness,” he said, “we’ll be prepared to leave in the hour.”

Long lines of trucks stretched down the road as people packed things into them. Ammunition, supplies, and weapons were all loaded up, along with the men who would be using them. These were highly skilled and trained men, and although they were outnumbered, they far outclassed the rebels. My men were better armed and skilled. They were going to win.

They had to win.

“What are our chances?” I asked Hardcourt. “Be honest with me. Your career depends on it.”

He furrowed his brows. “I’d say we have a sixty-five percent chance.”

I sighed. “I was afraid of that.”

“It’s a good shot, Your Highness. A victory here could even turn the war in our favor.”

“Or it could be a disaster and I’d have to run away again.”

“Yes. That’s true.”

“Are the men equipped with our latest weapons?”

“Yes, your Highness,” Hardcourt said. “Power suits for every third man, plus the full array of advanced weaponry.”

“Very good.” If there was one thing Starkland was good at, it was making electronics. We had some of the most advanced weaponry and technology in the world, but we were still just a small country. I was working on getting our manufacturing abilities ramped up in the coming years, but the war was really sapping our ability to scale.

I watched the trucks get loaded, one after the other. These men were my men, and each of their lives was important to me. Many of them would die, and they would die for me. I needed their sacrifices to matter. I needed them to win.

“Listen, Hardcourt,” I said. “Kill those fuckers, or don’t come back at all. Got me?”

He looked surprised. “What, Your Highness?”

I grinned at him. “I’m kidding. But seriously, kill those fuckers.”

He laughed. “I will, Your Highness.” He strode off and began ordering his troops around. I shook my head, worry tying my guts into a knot.

I wanted to go see Bryce, but I knew that would be bad for moral. I had to stand around and watch men do work that I wanted to be doing. If I was going to order them into battle, the least I could do was oversee their departure. They needed their king to believe in them so that they could fight hard.

So I stood there and I watched. I wanted to be a part of this, but I knew I couldn’t ever do that again. I had to be apart from it all, a symbol of strength and unity. That shit wasn’t my strong suit, though. I was much more the type to get deep into it and fuck shit up.

The preparations continued. The men were meant to leave soon, and I was avoiding the need to micromanage everything around me. I knew if I started that, I’d only make things worse, but it was hard. I wanted to help, although I knew I was helping by standing aside.

Finally, the men were loaded. More ministers began to filter out of the estate house to watch the show. The men began to file into their trucks and then the engines roared to life.

“Impressive, right?” someone said on my right.

I looked over. Richter Johansson smiled at me. “I guess so,” I said.

“Maybe not as impressive as the old days, true. But still, all this metal and technology, it’s amazing what we can do now.”

“Do you ever wish you were a young man again riding off to war?” I asked him.

He laughed. “Not in the slightest, Your Highness, and neither should you. War is for those who can’t get out of it.”

I frowned at that but said nothing. The trucks began to roll out, and the people clapped politely.

Richter patted my shoulder. “Don’t feel down, Your Highness. You’re doing very well, all things considered.”

“Thank you, Richter.”

He nodded and then left.

I stood there alone, watching the trucks pull out into the distance. I felt a strange pang in my stomach, but I couldn’t identify it.

As I stood there, Maximillian came walking quickly up to me from the house. “Your Highness,” he said.

“What’s up, Max?”

“Your Highness, it’s about Nicolai Corvin.”

I sighed. “What now? I thought he had been cleared?”

Max’s expression was stressed and tense. “He was, but . . . well, you’ll find this hard to believe.”

“Spit it out, Max.”

“When did Nicolai join the ministers?”

“Three years ago,” I said. “He’s a young man, and apparently he came out of nowhere.”

“Yes, three years ago. Well, we went back through the records, and we found something.”

“Out with it.”

“Nicolai Corvin died of lung cancer four years ago.” Max held up a photograph of an old, frail man. “This is him.”

I stared at the photograph. “That can’t be right.”

“We don’t know who the man who claims to be Nicolai Corvin is, but he is definitely an imposter. We cleared him because Corvin’s name is clean, but that man is anything but.”

“Fuck,” I said. “Find him. Detain him.”

“Already sent men looking.”

I felt another twisting, stressful jolt in my core and began to walk slowly back toward the house. Bryce had been at the party last night, and my servants had told me that they saw her speaking with Corvin. Afterward, she left the dinner and never returned.

I had a horrible feeling. I walked quickly toward the house but couldn’t hold myself back. I began running, bursting in through the door, and took the stairs two at a time.

I careened down the hallway until I got to her room. The door was shut. I knocked and then turned the knob.

It wasn’t locked. It swung open easily. I went in and checked through her place.

It was completely empty.

Max came behind me a few second later, huffing and puffing. “Your Highness?” he asked, confused. “What’s happening?”

“Where is Bryce?” I asked him.

“I don’t know.”

“Find her. Now.”

“Very well.” He bowed and then left.

As I stood in the middle of Bryce’s room, I knew what had happened. I knew, but I didn’t want to admit it to myself. I didn’t want to admit that I could have missed this, that I could have fucked up so fucking badly.

I was holding out hope, but I knew it was past time for hope and time for more action.